


Melt the Ice

by rocksalts



Series: Suptober20 [22]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Arguing, Dean Winchester Has Panic Attacks, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:13:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27172942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rocksalts/pseuds/rocksalts
Summary: Dean regrets an argument he has with Cas and attempts to fix it.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Suptober20 [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1977244
Comments: 6
Kudos: 117





	Melt the Ice

**Author's Note:**

> suptober20 day 22: I cursed the gloom that set upon us...(ficlet) | destiel | ~1k words

It was storming.

Dean could barely hear the door of the impala click shut with Sam’s departure, swallowed by the sounds of rain and wind and thunder. It was rare that they were caught in storms like this—when Baby could barely keep up with providing them warmth, and Dean had the fleeting worry that one of her ‘shields would crack from the cold. 

Dean risked a glance into the rear view, blowing hot air into his cupped hands and rubbing them together. His eyes locked onto Cas. He was sitting undisturbed, hands folded in his lap, staring out into the storm.

Dean wanted to say something. No–Dean would be satisfied if Cas would just _look_ at him, at this point. They sat in the same car, but they might as well have been miles away. Cas rested there like he wasn’t there at all to begin with.

It had been a stupid, selfish argument, like it always was. Dean didn’t know how to tell Cas not to go—how to tell him that he dreamt of putting chains on Cas’ ankles and tying him to the bunker. How he understood that Cas had other places to be, but also how he had never been jealous of a place before. How his nightmares lately consisted of one thing.

He breathed out, and the puff of air from his mouth was visible for a moment before fading off. Dean couldn’t stop the chill that ran through his body, like the twist of wringing out a wet towel. He felt exposed, despite the layers, and even his heart seemed icy around the edges. Dean found himself wishing for Sam to return with their coffees, so that at least his hands and mouth could be warm.

Without warning, Dean felt the engine rev underneath his feet. He stilled, wondering if Baby was about to give out, when the lukewarm air that had been slowly heating the car shot out a lot warmer. He pressed a stunned hand to the nearest vent, loving the feeling of his fingers thawing underneath it.

Dean was wondering what had caused the abrupt change—because it definitely wasn’t Baby deciding to get an adrenaline rush—until his eyes caught Cas’ in the mirror.

He frowned.

He wanted to say something, _anything_. Dean’s voice came out gruff and apathetic when he managed a “Thanks.”

Cas didn’t even move, just turned his eyes back to look at the storm. Dean cleared his throat.

“I don’t like this,” he said.

Silence. Sounds of rain hitting the car, slapping it like it had done something wrong. Warmth radiating through the vents.

“This thing…I caused it. I shouldn’t have said what I said. I’m just…I’m not good at this.”

Dean thought Cas wasn’t going to respond again, but he heard the tell-tale sounds of trench coat fabric shifting from the back seat.

“At what?”

“At—at… _feelings_. I don’t know…I don’t know how to tell you what I’m thinking. So I get angry, and I…and I hurt you.”

The air was getting hot. Dean pulled his hands away to rest on his seat.

“You think too much,” Cas said. “Stop thinking about the repercussions, Dean. Just say how you feel, and _mean it_. You—you know _I_ of all people would never judge you for it.”

Dean knew. Dean knew, and that scared him. There was always judgement, at every corner of the world—there was someone or something ready to tell Dean how he was wrong. How he had failed, how he was going to fail, or how he was in the process of failing. That one…that scared him the most.

He felt like that now, in the middle of a storm, sitting in his car that was suddenly—suddenly all to hot, and he couldn’t breathe, and he was pushing the car door open into the harsh cold of the rain and wind, gasping at air and leaning against Baby’s side to steady himself.

A voice in the back of his head reminded him that he left the door open, that his seat would be wet, that he was ruining the leather. He feebly pushed the door closed, desperate not to let another failure eat at him.

Dean’s heart was racing. By the time Cas had reached his side, he was already drenched from head to feet, wiggling his toes to fight off the wetness of his socks. The air was cold and harsh coming in and out of his lungs. Burning.

“Dean, slowly. Slowly.”

He focused on the feeling of Cas’ hand that rested warm on the back of his neck. Tried to take a deep breath. Tried not to fail at that.

“This is the opposite of ‘not thinking,’” Cas said gently, once Dean’s breathing was almost normal. Somehow, Dean managed a soft laugh. 

“Guess I failed at that too, huh?”

He thought Cas hadn’t heard it over the storm, because he opened the door for Dean and then walked around the other side to slide into the passenger’s seat.

They were quiet, both dripping water into the seats, Dean grateful once again for the warm air.

“You haven’t _failed_ me, Dean.” Cas finally said. “You never do. Sure, you make mistakes, but I have never seen you as a failure. You’re human. You try your best to always do what’s right. I just wish you could trust me enough to…to let down some of your walls.”

Dean stopped himself from responding right away. Reminded himself to be honest. To not lie—not to Cas.

“I wish that too, Cas. I’m…trying.”

They looked at each other. Dean tried to show Cas that he was sincere, that he would try to let his heart open to him a little more.

Cas must have seen it, because he smiled faintly.

“I believe you, Dean.” He looked out at the rain for a long moment, as if gathering his thoughts. Finally, he decided on something, and turned back to Dean with the news of it.

“Spring will come again.”

Cas wasn’t just hopeful, he was sure. Dean thought that if anyone could make spring flowers bloom in the midst of a storm, it would be him.

**Author's Note:**

> hi! if you enjoyed, you can find me on tumblr @rambleoncas, I post these on there first ((:


End file.
